Molly Arc Snippets
by Crazy
Summary: Placed in the ATF universe, these are snippets from my Molly arc.
1. Chapter 1

The following chapters contain snippets from my Molly arc. I had originally not intended to put them up like this but I read the other day that the original authoress of the ATF sandbox has requested this realm be closed. For now I will post what few pieces make a gray sort of sense then lay this arc to rest. However, don't be surprised if someday it wrestles me down and demands to be finished.

Crazy

* * *

A call for Help

The phone was ringing when Josiah entered Ezra's condo. Grimacing at the shrill noise he started for the stairs. He didn't make it a habit to answer someone else's phone, and wasn't going to start now.

He made it up three steps when the sudden silence that emanated from the answering machine made him pause in curiosity.

"_Ezra_?"

The large man gripped the wrought iron railing in surprise when the tremulous voice sounded through the otherwise empty condo. "_Ezra, are you there_?" He could hear Molly's uncertainty and her fear, almost as if he were looking into her gray eyes. Thoughts of where she was ran through his mind, but he knew he wouldn't get an answer from her directly. His only hope was to let her leave her message and maybe, god willing; there might be some background noise that would give them a clue.

"_Oh… well, I…I suppose your still in the hospital_."

Josiah unconsciously leaned forward when she paused, willing her to continue. "_I had hoped…well, I'd hoped you would be out by now_." Again she paused, this time to take a deep shuddering breath. "_I just wanted to know how you're doing now. Oh god, please, I…well, I…Please Ezra, get better…_" She was crying now, Josiah was sure of it, judging by the harsh deep breaths she was taking. Slowly he made his way down the stairs, waiting, hoping for her to continue. In some obscure way he felt that every moment she talked proved she was still alive, and the fact that she called Ezra, led him to believe she was asking to be found.

Slowly the large man's hand crept towards the phone as he fought with himself. To answer now, might be to frighten her away. But he knew she was in so much emotional pain, and he wanted so desperately to help her.

"_I'm sorry, Ez. I'm sorry this happened to you_." Inches from the receiver, his hand clenched as her voice squeaked past a sob before whispering, "_I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry_."

Again his hand moved forward. "_An'…Ezra_?" Somehow he knew he was going to be too late.

"_I'm scared_." She whispered.

The answering machine hung up before the receiver even left the cradle.

Listening to dial tone, Josiah stared into nothing, tears in his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

This piece is actually comprised of two snippets that were written to go together. The first is set in the beginning of the arc while the second one, separated by a bar, represents a few months down the line.

This is another attempt at storytelling using dialogue.

* * *

Idiosyncrasies

"I do not know what to make of it Mr. Jackson. She follows me around like a silent eidolon. It doesn't matter what I do, short of going to the rest room, for there she is. It is not like she is watching me, or hovering, like what you would do if I were _unfortunate_ enough to be under your care. It is more that she has to be there with me. Even if she is doing something that does not coincide with my current activities.

Take this afternoon as a principal example. I was working on that report Mr. Larabee so eloquently insisted I finish, and she sat down in Mr. Tanner's chair working on some archaic form of illustration, until he returned, whereupon she moved to the floor at the side of my desk. Later, I found I was in need of the copier. I got as far as two steps from my desk, at which point she stood and followed me.

Then as I chatted amiably with Ms. Reinhardt, the child found herself a seat not far from me and returned to what she was doing before.

And let us not forget this evening. I retired to the back lawn as I am want to do at times, when visiting the ranch, in an attempt to find a few moments to myself. But it wasn't a minute later, and she was there, looking up at the sky with me. I suppose the most disconcerting part about this arrangement is that she doesn't talk. Not much anyway. She just sits there, self-absorbed. She doesn't look at me, either. She just senses my movements and follows. Like a dog I expect.

As for now, I must say that my appreciation goes to Mr. Tanner, as this is the first time I have been able to procure a moment without her."

"And what do you want me to do about it, Ezra? It's apparent that the girl is still traumatized, and sees something in you that must ease that. The question is, are you willing to throw her back into turmoil just because you want a few minutes to yourself?"

"Well, I…I…I don't _want_ her to wallow in that miasma she was shrouded in before, but surely she can find another way to feel at ease?"

"Like it or not, Ez, she's picked you, and to a lesser degree, Vin, to feel safe around. And, as you said, she isn't getting in your way or causing any problems, so for now, I'd say you should just deal with it. Besides, I find it fitting you're receiving a little of your own attitude."

"And what, might I ask, is that referring to, Mr. Jackson?"

"Oh, nothin' much. It's just that you tend to run a little 'self-absorbed' yourself. We've just learned to accept this little idiosyncrasy and appreciate you more, for it."

* * *

"I do not like this, not at all."

"And why's that, Ez?"

"She is going off with people I have not the pleasure of knowing intimately. She even refused to give me their full given names so I could do a background check on them. – what is so funny, Mr. Jackson?"

"You. It wasn't so long ago you were having troubles with her being near you all the time, and now you can't let go. Make up your mind, man. You can't have it both ways. – what was that, Ez? I couldn't understand the mumble. – Fine, don't repeat it. But sometime you're going to have to realize this is for the best. She's learning to depend on herself and that's what we want. It's healthy, and I for one think it's about time."

"You may be right, Mr. Jackson, but I still need to get the names of those girls she's absconded with."

"Girls, and boy."

"Excuse me?"

"One of 'em was a boy."

"Oh, dear Lord!"

"Whoa, whoa, where ya goin' there, Ezra?"

"To follow them of course. Now, are you going to stand there snickering, or are you going to come along?"

"I'm Comin', I'm comin', just let me get my camera."

"Why the devil for, Mr. Jackson?"

"So I c'n capture the moment you make a fool of yerself."

"Your faith in me leaves something to be desired."


	3. Chapter 3

This snippet was supposed to go before my fic titled "No Longer Alone." It isn't necessary to read this first, nor is it necessary to read the fic after reading this, though I humbly beg you to do so, Please!

* * *

Overprotective

Nathan sat up suddenly, a look of surprised wonder on his face. "Did Ezra just growl?"

Vin Tanner chuckled at the EMT's question, while keeping his own gaze on the Southerner. "Yup, I do believe he did."

"Chris'd better watch out." Buck chimed in. "Pretty soon Ez'll be better at it 'n he is."

The man they were jeering turned and scowled at his fellow agents.

"Yep, Chris's job is definitely up for contention." The ladies man crowed with delight.

"What was that Wilmington?" Team Seven's boss inquired rhetorically as he breezed through the open door, all the while throwing concerned looks over his shoulder in the direction he had just come from.

"Was that Rivers with Molly?" Larabee finally asked, setting some folders on the nearest desk.

Another growl was heard from the Southerner, causing the blond to lift an eyebrow in surprise. "I'll take that as a yes and move on to the question of 'why'?"

"I have not an _inkling_ of an idea as to what the girl is thinking. Surely she can see he is much too old for her, not to mention she deserves bettah."

"No, I mean, why are you so upset? Rivers is a good kid." Chris cocked a smile watching the scowl on his undercover agents face. " 'Sides, She's old enough to make up her own mind."

"I doubt that very much Mr. Larabee. The girl is barely 16. Not even legal."

"Ezra, she LOOKS barely 16 but that doesn't mean she is. For all we know she could be 20."

"Or she could be 12." Ezra slumped into his chair and crossed his arms in frustration. "Thanks for giving me something else to worry about!" 

"I'm betting she's older then she looks, Ez." Nathan added his two cents worth.

"She definitely acts more mature then she looks." JD spoke up, and then his expressive brown eyes glazed as if in thought. "That is, when she isn't busy acting like a kid."

Buck smacked the youngest agent up the back side of the head, and frowned. That wasn't going to ease the Southerner's mind at all. Glancing towards the man in concern, his frown grew deeper. This situation was really bothering the poor man.

Brown eyes darting around the room, they finally lit upon someone who might help. "Josiah, what do you think about this? How old would you guess she is based upon her psychological profile?"

The large man shook his head and smiled. He sure loved these men for their entertainment.


	4. Chapter 4

The following snippet was just a practice in writing a ficlet using only dialogue. It should give you an idea of Molly's character. Not to mention Ezra's.

* * *

Fine cuisine

"See Ez, I don't have a sophisticated palate like you, therefore my cooking abilities reflect that."

"Miss Molly, I have nothing against your repertoire of recipes. I was just commenting on the fact that I have not had Japanese in quite a while. There is nothing wrong with having fine cuisine now and then."

"Key words? 'Now and then.' 'Sides, sushi is fish, not 'fine cuisine'."

"And that is a problem, why?"

"F-I-S-H. Fish, Ezra. I can't get any plainer than that. And not just any fish - raw fish. Sorry, can't do that. If you want raw fish, catch it yourself. 'Cause I _ain't_ preparing it."

"Am not."

"Ain't"

"Am…"

"Will you two stop it? You act like an old married couple.

"Us married? Not likely. He's not my type"

"And what would your type be? The beer bellied couch potato?"

"Certainly not someone like you, Mister emotional Jack Ass."


End file.
